


Exuberance is beauty

by redelice



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Graphic Violence, M/M, Murder, Murder Family, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The hannibal kylux AU, Therapy, hux is a cannibal, lots of death and descriptions of it, more tags added later cuz hell its my first fic in ages, nbc hannibal crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redelice/pseuds/redelice
Summary: Kylux AU story based on the Red Dragon and Hannibal novels by Thomas Harris and the rewritten format by Bryan Fuller for the NBC series.Ben solo is recruited by Luke Skywalker, head of behavioural sciences to help investigate a serial killer in Minnesota. The investigations are weighing heavy and Luke decides supervision by a psychiatrist is necessary. Dr Armitage Hux is introduced and fascinated by Solo's ability to empathize with psychopathic murders, he often pushes the boundaries of Ben's fragile sanity to hopefully embrace Hux' nature of being a cannibalistic killer himself.





	1. Aperitif p1

**Author's Note:**

> “Exuberance is beauty.”  
> ― William Blake 
> 
> Welcome to the start of the written format to the Kylux Hannibal Au comic I am currently working on, this story follows the NBC Hannibal storyline as close as I can get with some very interesting casting changes and those who are familiar can see some of the foreshadowing changes haha. Please leave a comment with your thoughts I’d love to hear what you guys think of this AU.
> 
> Cast:  
> Ben Solo as Will Graham,  
> Armitage Hux as Hannibal Lecter,  
> Poe Dameron as Alana Bloom,  
> Luke Skywalker as Jack Crawford,  
> Leia Organa as Beverly Katz, [senior senile squad]  
> Phasma as Bedelia Du Maurier,  
> Amilyn Holdo as Jimmy Price, [senior senile squad]  
> Han Solo as Brian Zeller, [senior senile squad]  
> Rey as Abigail Hobbs  
> Finn as Frederick Chilton  
> Rose Tico as Fredricka “Freddie” Lounds

It takes time to heal, to focus. Sounds dull and time flows backwards when all things fall in and out of place, it haunts him. This raven-haired man, dark haunted eyes, the soft drumming of his circulatory system grounding him back to reality. The pendulum swings and in his mind the steps are flowing backwards.   
With its swing it wipes away layer by layer, the officers, the blood, the body. The bright lights from the police cars outside. The crime scene erased and prepared for what is to come. Crime-scene pictures show the horrid crime, Mrs. Marlow. 

“One way or another, we’ve all thought about killing someone. Be it our own hands, the hand of God or a touch of destiny. I want you to think about how you would have killed Mrs. Marlow. Why did she deserve this?”

Heavy boots stomp over the front porch, violently kicking the door in. Thomas Marlow rushes down the stairs alarmed by the home security blaring, feet carrying him halfway down the stairs before Ben raises an arm, two shots fired, one bullet in the shoulder, one in the neck. 

“With surgical precision I shoot him twice, fracturing his clavicle with the first, and severing his jugulars and internal carotid artery with the second. Mr. Marlow will live long enough to watch me take away everything he holds dear.”

Mrs. Marlow tries to type in the panic code to the security system, frantic screaming and pleading. Ben raises his gun again; one shot and she drops to the floor. Her throat bleeding and neck broken. Mr. and Mrs. Marlow share one last look as Ben picks up the ringing phone. It is the security company, peppering them down with a recording of Mrs. Marlow passwords are exchanged, codes are pressed. When all is settled and no immediate danger of discovery looms over the culprit, it becomes the true horrifying end of this attack.

“Tell me your design, tell me who you are. The sad dull truth of these crimes is they can usually be reduced to a male penetrative control issue. I am expecting a higher level of scrutiny.” 

A young couple murdered, the wife’s paralyzed body defiled as her husband watched. The disgusting true nature of this crime painfully obvious from the crime-scene photos, rotating on the screen behind him. He finds it easier to stomach these days. It’s all a study, no longer actively involved but still helpful for the trainees to learn how to look as he had. Ben Solo dismissed the class, packing up his laptop and files. The Marlow case had been an oddly easy crime to solve and he could see the bright eyes of his pupils gleam as some were discussing the intimate what and ifs of the crime and its perpetrator.   
Young men and women flowed through the passage next to the small auditorium and a bulkier older man in a brown suit made his way through the sea of students, his eyes kind and blue, beard showing grey patches. Ben knew this man all too well. 

“Mister Benjamin Solo. I’m Special Agent Luke Skywalker. I lead the Behavioural Science Unit. “  
“Uncle Luke you do know I am aware of who you are?”

He pushes his glasses higher up on his prominent nose. Of course, he would recognize his own uncle, especially after last month’s family dinner which left a foul taste in his mouth. For all the similar fields they worked in their relationship had always been strained by the implied mentorship his uncle showed. Father part of Luke’s team, mother a Crime Scene Investigator as she had not the stomach for active fieldwork her brother had. She was very matter of fact, liked to look at things as she physically found them. Even in her older age she had impeccable eyesight and judgement. Snapping back to the here and now by Luke’s hand on his glasses, Ben used his glasses merely for show, to feign eye contact. It had always bothered him when people made eye contact with him, creeped him out, as if they were to like right through him. Past him.

“I see you have hitched yourself to a teaching post. I’ve heard you find it hard to be sociable?”  
“Luke… I merely talk to them, they seem to think I listen, but I don’t. It’s not being social when you are merely talking to yourself in a room filled with ears who are desperate for knowledge.”

Luke shakes his hand, a second hand on Ben’s shoulder. He is happy to see Ben again even if it might not be reciprocated. 

“These days I find myself closer to Asperger and Autistics than narcissists and sociopaths. Empathising with them is what brought me to this point Luke. This active imagination.” Luke smiled and leans in.

“Do you recon I can borrow your imagination?”

Ben hesitantly accepted the offer, following Luke to his department on the other side of the building. Passing the Academy grounds, trainees were jogging by them. His uncle explained there were now eight girls abducted in the past eight months, the latest one tagged mere minutes before he entered the lecture hall. No bodies found so far, hence the apprehension in Luke’s voice when he mentioned they were only tagged as abductions so far, Ben’s eyes narrowed behind his black rimmed glasses, a hand pushing back the bang covering half his face most of the time. This was unusual. There were no bodies found, no parts of bodies, nothing that came out of a body. Disappeared into thin air.   
Luke tagged a blue tag for the eighth victim on the board locating her location she disappeared from. Her photo hung next to the corresponding number. 

“Hmm… They weren’t taken where you think they were taken Luke. I can’t wrap my finger on it. You said they were all abducted on a Friday, not reported missing until the Monday after the weekend. He needs time to cover his tracks, at least a weekend. Let’s start with number eight here. Elise Nichols.”

Luke pinned another picture next to her name. A string pulled between her last known location and the beautiful portrait picture. They all seemed so happy, so normal. Mall of America looking girls. Wind-chaffed skin, same hair and eye colour. Age, height, weight. They all came from vastly different locations but were too similar to his liking. Ben wandered over to Luke, arms crossing in front of him after he pocketed his glasses, cogs in his mind whirling into a higher gear when he started vocalizing his thoughts to his uncle. He was in for another one of Luke’s rides, wasn’t he? 

“It’s never about all of them, it’s about one of them. The man’s Willy Wonka and all he takes are candy bars. Hidden among all these girls is one golden ticket, the true intended victim.” Luke turned to him.

“Is he just warming up or is he reliving what he did to his golden ticket… I’d like you to get closer than that Ben.”

“She would not be the first, she would be special. He would hide her well, she won’t be the last one either. I mean I would treat the one golden ticket special, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckled, a sad smile on his face.

“You have Maz at Harvard and Dameron at Georgetown. They do the exact same thing I’m doing, ask them to get close.”

“You know that’s not true, is it? You have a peculiar way of thinking Ben, it’s always been there. Very specific empathic thinking that I cannot find in their expert opinions. There are jumps in your thought process none of us can make or explain, you are unique.”

“Have you all speculated about my mind and the way I think over your little tea parties? It’s all in the evidence Luke.”  
He pressed his hands on Ben’s shoulders, squeezing them softly. A desperate plea from a relative more than a request as his FBI superior.

“Then help me find some damn it.”

“That… Will require me to be social. Very well.”

Luke took them to the Nichols’ home later that night in Duluth, Minnesota. The father tried to reason with the disappearance. She could have gone off by herself, how his daughter was a smart young woman. Maybe it was the pressure from school, she liked trains and traveling. Ben couldn’t stand it, he walked around the table, staring at the pictures behind them. His mind flashed back to the file, she was supposed to be watching the house and the cat when her parents were away from the weekend. Luke was rudely interrupted when Ben asked about the cat. The cat?

“Yes, the cat. Elise was supposed to feed it, wasn’t it hungry when you came home if it didn’t eat all weekend?”  
Ben’s eyes glinted as he took Luke aside, he was onto something.  
“It wasn’t hungry when they came home… Elise was here, she came home, fed the cat. This is where she was taken from. Not the campus, right here.”   
Trying to wrap their minds about the loud whispers and calls for backup and ERT the family struggles with the quick actions and development regarding their little girl. She was just missing was she not?

“Can I see your daughter’s room Mr Nichols?”  
“But the police were there this morning.”

Once upstairs with Mr Nichols, he puts on a pair of gloves. Cat loudly scratching and pawing at the closed bedroom door. When the father motioned to open the door Ben interrupted him, reminding him that the house might be a crime-scene and that preserving the evidence is something they must do from now on at all cost, holding the cat from doing the same seemed a wise decision. He twisted the knob with a gloved hand and opens the door, a breeze of fresh air blowing in through a suspiciously open window caught his nose. Hallway light doing little to illuminate the room he switches on the room’s lights. Illuminated he stares at what it revealed. Elise Nichols laid there in her bed, dressed in pyjamas as if she had decided to go to bed herself. Puncture wounds visible under the thin fabric, he raised an arm to block the father from bursting to her side. 

She was not breathing, eyes closed and her skin a sickly hue of grey. He pushes Mr. Nichols back, reality dawning on the father what it meant. That it was his little girl he assumed to have run off to ease the pressure of her shoulders. That she was home but not in the way both him and her mother had hoped her to be.

Luke’s team arrived quickly after, did he really have to start making this a family affair? Last time he checked his father had not been active in the CSI department even if his education was directed quite literally at it. The senior senile squad he once called them. Boy that was a rough Christmas. His mother carried two cases, his father a camera, Holdo was the last addition, a friend of his mother, high school best friends he suspected by their behaviour.   
“Just talk it out Ben, you’re wired and recorded per usual. Take your time and we will come back in when you tell us to.”

The door closing at Luke’s hand, time slowed. Blaring noises from the crime-scene teams around him dulling. His eyes close, focussed on the drumming of his heartbeat, Ben sways and finds himself outside of the Nichol’s home. Looking around the neighbourhood is quiet, empty. There are no loud police cars, no ambulance, no bustling crime-scene or mourning parents. He crawls his way up on the roof of their front door porch, the wood creaking under the strain of his weight. Sliding the window open quietly he sees her sleeping soundly in bed, Elise Nichols. She is so alive, the stark contrast of the reality outside straining his thoughts. Clearing his throat strong hands grab hold of her throat as a sharp knee bears down on her chest, ribs giving way with a horrible violent sound. Tears well in his eyes as his hands squeeze tight around her small neck, the girl under him startled from her deep sleep into a shivering terror, she struggles. Tear rolling down her cheeks, eyes bloodshot, her hands struggling to get a grip. With a snap the head board cracks under the pressure and so does her neck. Elise died here.

He was startled from his mental reconstruction by the snipping sound of a pair of tweezers. Leia Organa chose to remain in the room even if he had requested it empty, bagging samples she sighed and stood up to face him. 

“Ben. I thought you chose the more educational path of our field. What has Luke gotten you into this time? I’m not ungrateful. I just worry.” Before he could respond Luke Skywalker hurried back in, annoyed with Leia’s lack of restraint when it comes to leaving Ben alone at the crime-scene. “Leia You were not supposed to be in here.”

More flowed into the room, Holdo and Han followed. His mother showed the pieces of antler velvet she had plucked from the wounds to her colleagues, Holdo quite excited at the find. His father, Han, cleared his throat and spoke up. “Deer and Elk pin their prey, hoping to suffocate them. But the time is all wrong. It’s not the season for male deer to compete over females.”   
Luke groaned, bickering with Han and Leia as they always did.

“He might have put it there.” Ben stepped closer, obviously still annoyed that his own mother disturbed his process. “Antler velvet promotes healing, he might have put it there on purpose, undoing as much as he could. He wanted to retrace his steps, to heal her. Hoping that time reversed as he put her back where he found her. An apology.” Rattled he almost chokes on the revelation of his last words, it hangs in the air heavy. He raises his hand to brush back the lock of black hair from his forehead. The drumming pulse in his ears too loud for comfort, Ben reached his limit for tonight. “Does… Anyone have some Aspirin?”

Leia’s sad eyes scan his face, she worried even more now. Hands slipping him two packaged Aspirin. 

The road home took most of his night, once he was in his car driving the last miles he noticed a bundle of fur trotting next to his car, a dirty brown mutt hurrying on the side of the road. Squinting he pulls over, the dog is weary, a rope around its neck. Ben emotionally and physically exhausted as he may be wills himself to park his car. Opening the trunk and sitting down on the edge. Unwrapping a hotdog from some greasy 7-11 bag the dog’s interest was piqued. It hesitated at first but took the bait and not much later the dog was strapped into the car seat next to him. This was no usual stray dog, this was a loved, well cared for dog. But nevertheless, he was abandoned on the side of the road. 

“You’ll fit right in, Chewie.”

Once home he fills a tub of water, getting rid of all the dirt and matted fur with soap and a trimmer. The new dog is patient, it loves the attention and gentle hand Ben gives him. He towels and then blow-dries his fur, before putting him in a kennel out on the porch. Patiently the dog sits down as does Ben in the chair next to the kennel. Soft tapping revealed eight more dogs of various breeds and sizes, the glass of scotch in his hand reaches his lips in an appreciative sip. One dog seemed to attempt an alpha show, he nipped verbally at the dog. Correcting its behaviour. The dog sits back down and then lays down obediently, acknowledging who truly was the leader of this small pack of strays. 

The night passes quietly and he’s comfortable back in his own home, his dogs for company and the peace and quiet soothing his nerves. When exhaustion starts to weigh him down he moves to the bed, dogs huddled up in a pile of snoring fur near the end of his bed. Chewie did seem to fit in just right. Moonlight casts through the window, trees outside scratching against each other’s branches. His breathing slows and slowly he starts falling asleep. It seems like minutes but there is something else. Another soft wheeze of breathing in the room, holding his breath he slowly opens his eyes, trying to find where the sound is coming from. Swallowing the lump in his throat he glances to the side where the breathing was louder, next to him lays Elise Nichols.  
Wearing the white nightgown Ben found her in, before he could fully reach out the tree like shadows cast by the moonlight pull her up into the darkness, piercing through her wounds. Dragged back into the dark shadows Ben jolts awake in his bed. Body drenched in sweat, it was a dream. A nightmare produced by his overactive mind. Once calmed he changed into a dry pair of underwear and t-shirt. Rubbing his eyes, he laid back down, rolling himself in the blankets before falling asleep with a deep sigh.

A few days later Ben finds himself in the bathroom of FBI headquarters, patting his face dry with paper towels. Luke barges in seemingly having looked for him for quite a while. “What are you doing in here?” Luke’s voice is sharp, stern.   
“I enjoy the smell of urinal cakes. Especially in here…”  
Ben’s sarcastic remark is countered by Luke’s comment they need to talk. Interrupted by a random Agent walking in he is promptly kicked out by Luke shouting that the man can use the ladies room. Whatever crept under his uncle’s skin got him good. Avoiding his gaze Ben cleared his throat, attempting to block the man’s stare with the rim of his glasses. Pleading for Ben to join the team even just this once Luke holds his cheeks.

“We have a better chance with you on the case.” His uncle’s eyebrows are pushed together in a painful frown, he knows what he asks of his nephew and the risk for his mind but eight victims so far. He did not want number nine robbed of her life.

“This is not the normal kind of psychopath Luke. I have never read about one of these, maybe he’s not even a psychopath. This man is not insensitive, he isn’t shallow. He would honour them and now he felt remorse. He feels bad about what he did.”   
Ben leans back against the tiled wall, head bumping against the cool surface. 

“Feeling bad kind of defeats the purpose of being a psychopath, doesn’t it? What kind of crazy is he?” Crossing his arms, he shifted his weight to lean against the wall next to Ben.

“He couldn’t show her the love meant for her, so he put her corpse back where he killed it. It’s not about love for all of them, just the one he honours.” Biting his lip, he removed his glasses once more, shoving them in his chest pocket.

“Ben there was no saliva, no semen. Elise died a virgin-“

Ben slapped the tile with a flat hand, he felt a feeling of disgust creep over his back towards the nape of his neck.  
“He doesn’t want them to suffer Luke. He kills them quickly and in his eyes with mercy. There is no disrespect for them, he is sensitive and messed up returning Elise Nichols to the scene. One way or another he knows he is going to get caught.”

 

Leaving Ben to his classes Luke Skywalker makes his way to the mid-day appointment he had with Poe Dameron, a young psychology professor and friend to Ben Solo. Poe was quietly observing Ben’s progress of his guest lectures at the academy, a colleague and friend to him. There was a friendly handshake upon greeting and they walked the Academy grounds. 

“Solo is fond of you. Seems to think you wont run mind games on him. Have you been observing him?” Hands folded behind his back and Poe eagerly walked next to him. His face showing the annoyance at Luke’s prying words.

“I’m honest with him. I want to be his friend, which I am. You once asked me to do a study on him and, if I remember correctly, said no.” He sighed. “ Normally I wound not even broach this, but do you know what Ben’s strongest drive is?”  
A strained smile appears on the older man’s face, beard scrunching up.

“Fear. The excessive amounts of fear. I suspect they come with the imagination.” Poe halts him with a hand on his arm.  
“They are not some common side effect, it’s the price. A heavy one. I wouldn’t put him out there Luke, you know what will happen. Just promise me something Luke. Don’t let him get too close.”

Upon reaching Poe’s lecture hall they shake hands once more, Dameron squeezing his hand a bit harder at the promise.   
“I promise you that.”


	2. Aperitif p2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben meets Hux, they don’t hit it off as well as you might expect. We see the net closing around the Minnesota Shrike. The conclusion of episode 1 Apéritif

FBI Headquarters, examination room 2. Home of Luke’s unit and their main examination room with attached to it the offices and common areas. It was strange to be back but according to his uncle, a necessary evil. Making his way past the glass doors he saw Leia and Holdo unzip a large black body bag, hands covered in gloves, clothes shielded by aprons and splash visors covering their faces. They had printed her body; partial prints were retrieved from her neck. A good hand spread. Upon closer examination of her night gown they found a curly piece of metal. 

“It leaves us with something, plumbers, steamfitters, welders, tool-workers. It’s something for a change.” 

Taking a deep breath, he snapped the visor down, his pulse loud in his ears. Ben is pulled back to the vision, Elise Nichols perched on a set of antlers, points sprouting like branches from her wounds. The memory cuts short when Leia’s voice pulled him back to the present. Holdo examined the report and wounds. “Other injuries were probably but not conclusively post-mortem. The wounds may look like deer antlers, but I hardly think a deer was responsible for them.” Han snapped a glove off his hand, voice gritty and dry with its tone. 

“Have you considered she was mounted instead. Like a meat hook. Heck she may have been bled like a hunter’s trophy.” He traced a wound on her abdomen. A slice. Her liver had been removed. “What I don’t get. Why remove the liver and put it right back?” Ben’s face cringed hesitantly he spoke. “Something was off with the meat…” He took off his gloves, groaning as he rubbed his eyes under the visor. Thoughts ricochet through his mind when Holdo spoke of the liver cancer they found before his arrival. 

“He’s eating them.” 

\----------- 

Baltimore, Maryland.

A man is sobbing in his psychiatrist’s chair, a well-groomed tall gentleman named Joseph ‘Jar’ Binks. Trying to find some dignity through his tears he reaches out towards his psychiatrist; Armitage Hux. 

“P-please… I hate being this neurotic.” 

Hux hands him a box of tissues, dismissing the claim of Joseph being neurotic, it was distasteful. He listens to the man gathering his emotions, legs crossed as he leans back in his armchair. Eyes glued to the crumpled tissue Joseph just pushed in the corner of his own armchair across from him. The audacity.

“Our brain is designed to experience anxiety in short effective bursts. Never the prolonged foamy lathers your neuroses seem to enjoy. It could be why you feel as though a lion were on the verge of devouring you. Try to convince yourself that the lion is not in the room. Because when it is, you will surely know it.” 

The session ended soon after, Hux ushers Joseph to the door, opening it for him to step through and finally be rid of this sobbing ball of woe. Looking through he however noticed an older man standing in his waiting room. Checking the badge, he was flashing Hux smiled, dismissing Joseph until his session next week. Luke Skywalker visiting him so late on the day, peculiar. Inviting the agent in he closed the door behind him, Luke surveyed his office, the books, the artefacts. Even admiring his recent artworks.

“Forgive me for asking but how is this all about me?”

Luke flips through pages of Parisian landscapes, far off bridges and lovely sketches of humans. On top laid a set of pencils, eraser and a scalpel. “Humour me Armitage, but why the scalpel? We live in a day and age of pencil sharpeners, both manual and electric.” His voice a sing-song ring to it. 

“The scalpel cuts better points than a pencil sharpener Agent Skywalker. Now I am beginning to suspect you are investigating me. Why is it that you visit me?” Hux’ demeanour changes, arms crossed, and a hint of a smile reached his lips. The copper glow of his hair in the setting sun coloured dangerously well with his suit and sharp tone. Agent Skywalker flashed him a big smile followed by a chuckle.  
“You were referred to me by Poe Dameron in the psychology department at Georgetown, you mentored him during his residency at John Hopkins if I remember correctly. He even showed me some of your papers. Very interesting even to a layman.” 

“A layman? So many learned fellows going about in the halls of the behavioural Science at the FBI and you consider yourself a layman? Don’t cut yourself short Luke.” He offered Luke a seat and glass of water, Luke gladly took it as he explained the situation. The exact request he was asking Hux. A psychological profile on the serial killer they were currently dealing with. His piqued Hux’ interest and the next day he found himself similarly positioned in Luke’s office within the FBI academy. Folders covering the table in front of him when another man walked in. The story and crime scene had leaked to the press. Some genius in Duluth PD took a picture of Elise’s body and shared it with some close friends. Tattle crime ran an article on it. Scanning the contents this man, Ben Solo spoke up.

“Tasteless” His voice a scoff. Hux turned to him trying to find eye contact with Ben as they discussed his ‘tastes’.

“Do you have a trouble with taste?”

“I find that my thoughts are often… not tasty.” 

“Nor mine. No effective barriers what so ever.”

“Hence, I make forts, entire keeps and fields around them to keep mine guarded.” Ben leaned back, uneasy where this conversation was going. Who was this man and why did Luke include him on the investigation? Had he not asked for his help already?

“Associations do come quickly.” Hux hummed. “As do the forts.” Ben quickly replied.

“You don’t seem fond of eye contact, are you? I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind.” He shifted in his seat trying to find eye contact with Ben again.  
“Eyes are distracting, you see too much, too little. Losing focus. So yes, I try to avoid it when I can.”

“Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations… No forts in the bone arena of your skull for the things you love right?” 

“Whose profile are you working on?” Ben stood up too fast for his liking, the chair pushed back in the process. He turned towards Hux, directly looking him in the eye under the rim of his glasses. “Whose profile is he working on?” More demanding than questioning. Luke tried to reason that observing is what they do, that like Ben’s mind Hux had a similar mind that couldn’t just be switched off like it had a button. Amused Hux sighed when Ben got up. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give an actual lecture on said subject. Good bye.” As fast as he got up he left the room, door slamming shut after he exited.

“Armitage, keep poking and he’ll close all doors you try to pry open.” Luke sat down in his big chair with a soft creak of the leather. Going over the crime scene photos Hux pointed out obvious marks both his team and Ben had already noticed. A little later the heavier topic of his nephew resurfaced at Hux’ hand. “His perception. It’s pure empathy and projection. Ben can assume all our point of views and project them perfectly—This might scare him beyond our understanding. This dangerous tool he possesses is pointed on both ends.” Flipping to the last photo of Elise Nichols his cold green eyes bore holes in them.

“This cannibal you are pushing Ben to. I think I can help him see his face.” 

[Minnesota fields, early morning]

A woman is found with similar wounds, two large punctures on her chest and she is tastefully impaled on a large set of antlers. Crows circle the crime scene as the FBI team makes their way through photographing the scene. She is served on a platter for them, she fits the M.O. of the serial killer. But unlike all the ones before she is handed to them like she is the dinner table and the crows are her honoured guests, with now even the police joining in on them. 

Luke and ben step over the police tape surrounding the scene. Their unusual killer now had received a name, Minnesota Shrike. A reference to the bird. Shrikes impale mice and lizards on thorny branches, rip their organs out to eat them later. He can’t tell if it was sloppy or shrewd. This murder felt distant from Elise, there was no love. Whoever tucked Elise into her bed did not paint this picture.

“This… This is a different painting. The homicidal equivalent of fecal smearing. Almost like he’s mocking her, or us for that matter. Where did your love go?” He walked around the body, gloved hand crossing the slice on her body. Holdo informed him that her lungs were taken, probably when she was still alive. Turning away to relief his mind of the building pressure immersing himself in the case gave him. This 9th girl was butchered like a pig, their cannibal loved women. He doesn’t want to destroy them, keep a part of them with him to consume but never like this. Ben’s mind saw two minds mingling, he was not sure if there were two killers but this second one had a flair for the theatrics. Where the first one most likely had a house, maybe two, or a cabin. A hunter with an antler room. They are looking for a Minnesota steamfitter or plumber, someone with a hunting license. He has a daughter roughly the age of the other girls. She’s an only child, he can’t stand her leaving. She’s his golden ticket.

“And what of this copycat?” Luke and Ben made their way back to the car. “This is an intelligent psychopath Luke. Particularly a sadist, very hard to catch. He has no real motive that’s traceable, there won’t be a pattern and maybe he won’t ever kill in this pattern again. Maybe he has killed before. We can’t say for sure.” Luke lifts the police tape and Ben crosses under it.  
“Have Dr. Hux work up your psych profile, you seem to be very impressed with his opinion.” The tone condescending, it had affected him more than he would admit that Luke had called in extra help for the case, even suspecting it was someone to watch his mental state.

Another vision of a strange dark antlered beast haunts his dreams later that night, the surreal vision of creature warps when a knocking is heard through the dream. The beast startles and bolts as he wakes up, his room awfully dark. The ghost ‘data’ of his mental reconstructions were playing night tricks more often now, this had been the second night within 5 days he had dreamed of an odd creature, Elise Nichols, waking up drenched in his own sweat. Groaning Ben rolled on his side to sit up, shrugging a robe on before he made his way to the front door to open for who-ever was knocking pretty profusely. 

Squinting as the bright sunlight hit his corneas Ben groaned a questioning ‘Who is it?’. Outside his door stood one of the many subjects of his frustration, Armitage Hux. What on earth was he doing here with that smug look on his face. Hux held a small bag, a thermos and two cups in his hands. Where was Skywalker? Was he not usually with Hux? Hux claimed Luke was otherwise deposed in court, with some hesitation on Ben’s side he stepped aside to allow Hux in. The psychiatrist set up a small breakfast table next to the window, unpacking his fresh coffee and two Tupperware dishes. The lids come off with a loud pop and Hux pours him a cup of coffee. 

“Most meals are prepared by myself, I take very good care of what I put into my body. Some protein to start the day, Eggs, scrambled, and some sausage.” 

Armitage settled for the few words of praise the man gave him, meal quickly devoured by a hungry Ben Solo, plump lips nipping at the fork. An odd look in Hux’ eyes showed genuine amusement, he was indeed very careful as to what he put in his body.

“I should not have set up an analytical ambush in Luke’s office, het knowing my mind I can hardly stop it. My apologies might fall on deaf ears in the and so I will choose to use those apologies sparingly.” 

Ben scoffed at him. “Or we could just keep things professional.” Hux set his elbows on the table, chin leaning on his hand. His unbuttoned coat sharpening the shoulders. “Or we could socialise like adults. God forbid we even become friendly.”

Leaning back Ben tilted his head, was this man for real? Quite frankly he had no intention to meet Luke’s lapdog outside of the office keeping checks on him. “I don’t find you that interesting.”

A smile flinched on Hux’ lips. “Don’t worry, you will.” He cleared his throat. “Agent Skywalker told me you have a knack for the monsters. Interested I decided to call your good friend Dr. Dameron.” Ben’s brows pushed together. “Don’t worry, he was very protective of you, smitten I would say. He wouldn’t indulge me with idle gossip but had me promise to keep an eye on you.”

Disturbed by the mere idea of Hux keeping a watchful eye over him Ben decided to skip straight to business, maybe this surprisingly good cook would hop back to his own home and leave him in peace. 

“I don’t think the Shrike was responsible for the feast in the field. It’s so gift-wrapped. Everything became so clear after that, a negative shown to find the positive.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose, not too eager to make eye contact but he could allow himself a small distraction. 

“Mathematics of human behaviour, are you reconstructing his fantasies? His problems? His deep issues.” 

“Oh, he has a few.”

Almost winking Hux was quick to respond. “How about you Benjamin? Any problems?” Ben’s eyebrow twitched at the sound of his full name. Clearly Luke had spoken too much to Hux, they were the only two consistently calling him by his full first name even at this age. 

“No.”

Of course, he didn’t. They were too much alike, problem free, nothing to feel horrible about. Hux told him Luke still saw him as a fragile little teacup, the finest china only used for special guests. Protected and shielded in a glass cabinet, waiting for the right time to shine.

“And how do you see me?” 

“The mongoose I want under the house when all the snakes slither by… Do finish your breakfast, it’s one of the most important meals.” 

What could he mean by that?

[Construction site]

Instead of leaving him alone Hux decided to tag along on the investigation, the metal found on Elise Nichols’ gown. Examination and analysis revealed there were some special elements to the metal. The combination of pipe coating, type of pipe and type of metal left them with two construction sites, the first one proved to be a bust regarding the investigation, so his hopes were set on the second site. Throwing the car into park he unbuckled his belt, Hux was smiling in the seat next to him. What on earth was he smiling about.

“I wonder why Luke Skywalker wants me to make sure you’re of sound mind and body, to look for metal pipe threaders?” The conversation felt much lighter since the past few they had. The odd topics and directness was growing on him.   
“Well that’s between you and Luke, Armitage.” A dry snort exited Hux’ nose. “Where you requested the name Ben over Benjamin I too would prefer if it you called me Hux.”

“Complex childhood trauma or just peculiar indifference.” Ben smiled. “We’re looking for anything here, this is the last site that uses the specific pipe.” They made their way to the small offices, an obnoxious and flustered secretary named Dixie as stated on her desk tag was waiting for them. When Hux and Ben made their way through all the folders and personnel files she started a phone call with seeming a good friend. The little classic tattling friend type as well, her voice lowered to an ineffective whisper. File after file were packed into boxes to take back to the office when Ben’s eyes scanned an unusual resignation letter.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi… Dixie who is this.” He shifted the page to her, leaning on her desk. The secretary quickly hangs up the phone and scoots closer. “One of our pipe threaders, plumbers union requires those resignation letters whenever a member finishes their job.” 

“Does Mr. Kenobi have a daughter? A relative or anyone resembling a young girl, wind-chaffed skin. Plain but kind of pretty with au-burn hair. Around this tall.” Ben explained the main m.o. of the victims, this man left no number, no address. Hux curiously approached him, eager to find out what Ben had. 

“Even if he left no address, does he have something to hide? Why do you find him so peculiar?” His words were brushed off by Ben’s small interrogation of the secretary, she flustered more when het got a little too pushy. Dropping the topic after she would find an address for him they started packing up the boxes. Transferring them all one by one to the car in a little chain. Hux would grab a box from the office, pass it to Ben downstairs and he passed the box to Dixie who set it in the car. When about three boxes were left, one with loose folders stacked on top. Hux toppled the box down the staircase, cursing under his breath without a hint of remorse. Ben quickly started gathering the papers. “I got it don’t worry.” And Hux stepped back inside.

Back in the office he waited for the noise of Ben’s boots leaving the staircase back towards Dixie and the car he slipped a handkerchief from his pocket. Picking up the phone, he dials Kenobi’s number. A soft click is heard after a few seconds and a Young woman picks up. ““Hello?”” Hux spoke simple and clearly into the phone, requesting Mr. Kenobi’s presence. Without too much of a fuss a deeper voice answered instead. “Mister Obi-Wan Kenobi?” it asked.

“”Yes?””

He smiled and listened for a second if he for certain could not hear Ben coming up the stairs. 

“You don’t know me and most likely will never meet me. This is a mere courtesy call. Listen carefully. Are you listening?”

“”Yes.””

“They know.” 

 

[Kenobi House.] 

Ben slips another Aspirin in his mouth, sitting behind the wheel of his rental car, they had gotten the address from Dixie and after finishing packing up the boxes they made their way over to the Kenobi household. When Ben made it to the door it suddenly opens, and a woman, bleeding and wheezing is shoved on the porch step, the door slamming shut behind her. She is rolled on her back revealing the large gash through her neck, blood flowing fast from it. She tries desperately to cling and grasp for Ben’s aid, the porch drenching crimson in the blood flowing so fast and freely from her neck. Kneeling next to her he tries to help, cover her neck and stop the bleeding but it is too late. Her eyes flicker in a last hint of fear and panic when she loses consciousness and most likely her life.

His hands tremble when he got back up, determined he tries to kick the door in by smashing into it with his shoulder. The sick crack heard from it when it gave way echoed in his ears. Another well-place kick and the door splinters open so he can stumble inside. 

Behind him lagged Armitage Hux, strolling casually, barely glancing at the lifeless body of most likely Mrs. Kenobi. Deliberately stepping over her. Where Ben was checking room to room, gun first, full of adrenaline he was following suit. Calculated but dangerously calm. Blood splatters defaced the walls and floors when Ben made it to the kitchen, in the middle stood a middle aged man, shoulder length hair and a small beard. 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi? FBI.” His gun aimed at the man, worried eyes looking at the girl in his arms, a knife pressed to her neck. She wept, wide eyes and gasping for air. Time slowed for him in that moment, the knife shifted in slow-motion. The girl sank through her knees, Kenobi’s torso exposed for a clean shot. He took the first shot and Kenobi stumbled backwards to the kitchen counter. Another shot in his shoulder and the third shot is where he finally went down. Sinking to the floor, his back against a cabinet.  
Kenobi fell, and his eyes changed when he saw the girl on the floor, gasping and squirming. She stares at him, eyes confused, why had he done this? Why did he do this to them. 

Hux stepped into the kitchen after the last shot, his usual expression suddenly shifting into genuine pity and regret when he saw the girl on the floor being scooped up in Ben’s arms. Ben was panicking, shutting down. Kenobi’s last words where gasped when he looked caught Ben looking him in the eye. “See? See!”

Pulling her from the agent’s grasp Hux settled her down on the floor, His large hand clasping over the slash on her neck to keep it closed while he addresses her wounds. Ben’s eyes captivated by this prime example of rational thinking and force of action. 

Time blurred by the time the police units arrived as well as the ambulance, the girl was prepped for transport to the hospital and a blood covered Hux sat next to her, holding her hand through all this. Ben had to clear his mind, to get rid of the loud drumming noise his pulse slammed through his ears, this got him riled up to the point he could feel his blood flowing fast.

[The next morning – FBI Academy Lecture Hall]

Luke Skywalker’s phone had been buzzing all night, his team working overtime and he worried for Ben. Making his way through the hallways the doors to the Lecture hall were closed. When he opened the doors, he expected Solo to be giving his usual lecture but instead stood Dr. Poe Dameron. A soft knock to pull his attention from the lecture and he crossed to the doorway.

“Where is Benjamin?”

Poe’s face shifted from his usual charming smile to a sour frown, almost accusing Luke. “You said.” As he ushered him back to the door. “That he wouldn’t get too close.” The balance of Ben’s mind, it had shifted once more. Both Poe and Luke knew what this meant. Ben was left in the glaring hospital lights, standing next to Rey Kenobi, the young woman whose life was saved by the man sleeping in the chair next to her, holding her hand ever so gently. Armitage Hux. 

Ben sits down quietly in the chair next to him, his jacket draped over Hux to keep him cosy. Watching over him and the girl they both saved.


End file.
